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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23857720">As We Grow</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/brainsstorming/pseuds/brainsstorming'>brainsstorming</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Elementary School, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Growing Up, Growing Up Together, Hurt/Comfort, Modern Era, New York, Not Beta Read, Original Character(s), Original work - Freeform, Orphaned, Work In Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 12:08:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,713</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23857720</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/brainsstorming/pseuds/brainsstorming</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Told through the eyes of 7-year-old Alex Muller as she navigates the terrifying path of grief as she is thrown into a new life following the death of her parents. Aunt Siobhan is trying her best and so is Alex. Luca, however, is a literal angel and doesn't need to try to be his best.</p>
<p>Follows Alex from age 7 to 25ish.</p>
<p>*Also on Wattpad under 0brainstorming0*</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Original Female Character &amp; Original Male Character, Original Female Character/Original Male Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>As We Grow</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I created a vague outline of this work a couple of years ago, yet it took me forever to actually get it down on paper. This story is dedicated to my grandfather and one of my best friends, Bella- both of which were significant in the creation of this work but will never get to actually see this story in its competition.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>I am too young to understand many things, like why the sky can be a happy blue, a sad blue, or an angry blue- or why I have to learn about math, even though I don’t like it. I do understand, however, that mama and papa weren’t coming back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mama and Papa had driven into the city for dinner, leaving me at home with my babysitter, Tina. They were supposed to be home by 8 pm, just in time to tuck me into bed- they weren’t home for bedtime.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I was mad at Mama and Papa. They promised they would tuck me in. I refused to go to bed, yet when I woke up- there I was, in my bed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tina stayed the entire night, calling Mama, Papa, </span>
  <em>
    <span>anybody</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Nobody answered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Until Aunt Siobhan showed up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Aunt Siobhan was my Mama’s sister- they looked nothing alike. Mama was born in a country far, far away and was adopted by Aunt Siobhan’s Mama and Papa- my grandparents. Mama and Siobhan were the same age, Mama older by two months, and they were best friends.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tina had made waffles that morning when Aunt Siobhan arrived, bursting through the screen door without any greeting and rushed in to give me a hug.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Aunt Siobhan was crying.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m so sorry baby, I’m sorry, s</span>
  </em>
  <span>he kept crying.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mama and Papa were gone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Where did they go?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were supposed to tuck me into bed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were supposed to kiss me on the head and read me a book.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Papa was supposed to act out all of the characters in funny voices.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mama was supposed to sit at the end of the bed and make up a new ending if we didn’t like the story's fated ending.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were supposed to hug me so tightly that my brains would threaten to fall out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were supposed to say goodnight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Supposed to say </span>
  <em>
    <span>I love you, Alex.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mama and Papa were gone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It took four days to see Mama and Papa again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I didn’t understand, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you said they were gone? We’re going to see them today!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I understand now- they are gone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They are not gone physically, but they are forever asleep. Forever asleep in a dress and suit that I remember them wearing when going to one of Papa’s fancy work parties.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They can’t wake up, won’t wake up, ever again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When I fall asleep, would there be a chance I would never wake up again?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I don’t want to fall asleep forever, but at the same time- I want to be with Mama and Papa.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If I fall asleep forever, I’ll never get to play soccer again or be in the next school play. I don’t want to be gone, like mama and papa, ever.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I want them here with me.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I sat in the front row of a church I had never been in before. Mama and Papa never had time to go to church- they said they believed in God and even though we never went to church, we always prayed before every meal.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Is that where they are? With God?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Did God take them away?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Did God take them from </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Aunt Siobhan sat with her arm around me, tears hiding in the corner of her eyes- peeking through, wishing to fall.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I didn’t have any tears that wished to fall.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Friends and family sat behind us in the pews, those who I would usually cheer and jump around to see- today, I didn’t want to see anybody.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The pastor dressed in tacky robes spoke about Mama and Papa- spoke about their accomplishments and wonderful lives.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Grandma Anne, who flew all the way from Ohio, spoke about the first time she saw Mama when she was in Romania- how she was so young, so scared, yet so strong, spoke about the first time she met Papa- who held hands with Mama as they walked into Grandma’s house, and she was terrified by their tiny Beagle, Murphy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Aunt Siobhan was the last to speak, as her hiding tears appeared over the barricade of her eyes, she told of the first time she met Mama, how the two of them formed an inseparable bond, despite their lingual barrier.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I wanted to speak, but never in front of those people, never in front of the crowd of sad eyes who tears shown like the stars- whilst my tears had failed to make an appearance.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I wanted to tell them about Mama’s Romanian songs she’d sing while making dinner, and Papa’s jokes that could always make you laugh, even on the saddest of days- days like today. I wanted to tell them about the trip we made to surprise Grandma Anne on her 70th birthday, making her cry ‘like a newborn baby’ in happiness.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After the service, people were lined up to see Mama and Papa before they were placed in the dirt. The line was so long, that it took up the entire church. It took thousands of years for the room to clear. Then, it was my turn.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Aunt Siobhan held my hand as we walked up to Mama and Papa, I held on to her hand tightly, and she held on to mine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were there, Mama and Papa. Yet, they were gone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mama and Papa were sleeping.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eyes closed as if they were in a deep, deep sleep.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They would never wake up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They would wake up when we closed our eyes for the last time and that, </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> is when we would finally see them again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The day after the funeral Siobhan and I had to pack up my things into one of Papa's old suitcases in order for us to get to Brooklyn by bedtime. We sat on my bedroom floor, crying and laughing about every memory that sparked from a piece of clothing or toy or drawing as we had to carefully select what we would be able to take.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once we had finally finished packing up Papa's suitcase and my school backpack, we looked around my room once more. It was still packed with memories- I don't want to leave them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I can't leave them</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I sobbed into Aunt Siobhan's chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I could feel her deep sigh, as she attempted to compose herself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I know baby, I know.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She quickly came up with an idea, rushing out of the room and into the garage when she appeared once more with an old box labeled, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sofia's Room</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It was one of the many boxes that Mama had brought home when she and Papa got married.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Aunt Siobhan dug around and inside the box and quickly produced an odd-looking camera. She explained that when you take the picture, it comes out through a tiny slot- which she demonstrated by taking a silly selfie.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For the next hour, we raced around the house taking pictures of every drawing and framed picture we could find that wouldn't be able to join us on our trip. We even took a picture of the fridge, filled with magnets of cool cities and letters that spelled out </span>
  <em>
    <span>Calories don't count on weekends</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>We got to the last picture that the camera could take and we paused, this was really it. Our </span>
  <em>
    <span>last</span>
  </em>
  <span> photo. The last memory that we could capture before we were off on to the scary adventure we would face in New York City.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Can we take a picture together with the house? </span>
  </em>
  <span>I asked Aunt Siobhan as she fumbled through the box, likely searching for more film.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She didn't want this to be the last photo either.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She nodded with a watery smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The picture wasn't a happy one, like the others we had taken throughout the house. Red eyes, tears streaming down our faces, hands red from holding onto one another so so so tightly. It wasn't a happy one, but it was the first picture as we started our terrifying new life.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Aunt Siobhan lived in a small apartment in Brooklyn with a washing machine in the kitchen and no bedroom. She called it a studio apartment. The apartment was silly as it was smaller than the kitchen and living room combined in my house.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>My </span>
  <em>
    <span>old </span>
  </em>
  <span>house.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>New York City was an expensive city and was </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>different than Pittsford.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Aunt Siobhan was a teacher at a local high school, where she taught English, and lived a very comfortable life in her tiny apartment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Comfortable, until both of our worlds turned upside down and she gained a roommate- me.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her sink was filled with dishes and her bed was unmade as if she had rushed off in a hurry to get to somewhere- maybe she had woken up late one day. Or maybe- </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She hadn't been to her apartment since Mama and Papa left us.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Since Mama and Papa left </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Aunt Siobhan and I make a quick detour during our eight-hour drive to New York, where we ventured through Ikea and purchased a Loft bed that would fit atop of Aunt Siobhan's bed at her apartment. The white loft bed looked odd in the space filled with black furniture, reminding both of us about the current situation. This wasn't going to be a fun little sleepover, this was forever.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Siobhan had also purchased some stringed lights and clips, decided to hang up all of our pictures we had taken from my house- my </span>
  <em>
    <span>old</span>
  </em>
  <span> house. The lights and photos were hung on top of the television found the opposite wall that housed both of our beds, it was beautiful.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Aunt Siobhan?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Hmm?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>What's the plan?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>She weakly smiled.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I have no idea kiddo, but we'll figure it out together.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Apparently</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the next step in our scary new life was school. I strongly disagreed with this step because school is absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> necessary, but since Aunt Siobhan is the adult she got to make this decision.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I'd like to think that the decision was unfair because Aunt Siobhan herself was a teacher.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>One week after I moved in with Aunt Siobhan, I was enrolled in the local public school. The public school was so close that I would have to walk.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>My first day was on a Monday and it felt like any other school day, dressed in normal clothes and wearing my backpack. If I closed my eyes, I could pretend that I was going to my old school and nothing had changed.</span>
</p>
<p><span>But everything had changed. I was walking to school when Papa would always take me to school. I didn't know anybody in my class. I didn't even know my way around the city well, relying on the simple instructions of </span><em><span>when you</span></em> <em><span>leave the apartment go left, cross the street three times, turn right, walk into the big bricked building that had kids and parents everywhere</span></em><span>. Aunt Siobhan wasn't the best with instructions, but the day before we had walked it together three times in order to make sure I knew the way.</span></p>
<p>
  <span>As I walked down the street, focusing on the mural I remembered passing with Aunt Siobhan- a voice called out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Wait up! Purple backpack, wait up!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The voice was talking to me.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The voice quickly approached. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He</span>
  </em>
  <span> was a tall, lanky boy with the yellowest hair I had ever seen. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He</span>
  </em>
  <span> was wearing a green backpack with a NASA t-shirt and blue pants.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Do I know you?</span>
  </em>
  <span> I asked the boy, thinking hard to see if I remembered him from yesterday's walks with Siobhan.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Nope</span>
  </em>
  <span>, He grinned, popping the 'p'. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I'm Luca!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He held his hand out for me to shake.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>You know- you really shouldn't talk to strangers. I could be a bad guy.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shrugged his shoulders, hand still out to shake.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>A bad guy wouldn't say that plus I told you my name- we aren't stranger's no more.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I sighed and held out my hand to meet his, </span>
  <em>
    <span>My name's Alex.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Hi Alex! </span>
  </em>
  <span>He shouted with a toothy grin, </span>
  <em>
    <span>We better get going before school starts!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>We quickly got moving, walking faster as the school appeared into view.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>What class are you in?</span>
  </em>
  <span>  Luca asked as the two stopped at the crosswalk in front of the school, waiting for the cars to pass by.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I'm in Miss. Allen's class- She's the one with the hair that looks like noodles.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I described, wrapping my hair around my finger as if to get the point across.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>That's cool, I don't know who she is. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Luca laughed, trying to curl his short hair around his finger.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The crosswalk light turned green and the two started to walk.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>She seems really nice, I mean- look she's right</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I paused smile dropping.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I turned around, looking around for my new friend. He was nowhere to be seen. Peering down the street I was a green backpack running across the crosswalk on the opposite side of the street. He ditched me- jerk.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tears flooded my eyes as the green backpack left my sights. How could someone be so mean? I thought he was being nice and wanted to be my friend, yet there he went. Maybe I should wait here until he gets back because school was going to start soon.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Standing in front of the school gates, I searched for the dumb green backpack to return to my view. A hand gently landing on my shoulder startled me from my search- it was Miss Allen.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Hey sweetheart,</span>
  </em>
  <span> She began, </span>
  <em>
    <span>It's time for school to start.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sighing I looked once more for Luca.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Why was I looking for that kid anyways- he left me, serves him right for being late.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Quickly, I turned into school gates and followed Miss Allen into my first day of school.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>What are you doing here? </span>
  </em>
  <span>I crossed my arms angrily as I stood in front of the mural.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There, waving as if nothing had happened this morning, was Luca.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I'm chilling. You know, Like a villain? </span>
  </em>
  <span>He laughed, jumping up and grabbing his backpack.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>You left me at school, how could you be so cruel? </span>
  </em>
  <span>I lowered my voice as a man passed by on the phone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I had to leave you- I don't go to that school. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He shrugged, pushing both of us forward towards Siobhan's apartment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>You what? </span>
  </em>
  <span>I shouted.</span>
  <em>
    <span> Why did you walk with me then- you were probably late!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Chill out, </span>
  </em>
  <span> He laughed, placing his hands on my shoulders. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I'm never late, I run to fast.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I couldn't help but laugh myself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Who do you think you are? The Flash? </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luca nodded, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Of course!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The two of us walked in silence for the next block until I couldn't help but ask,</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Why are you walking with me?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He asked me to repeat the question- I did.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I mean- why not?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stupid Answer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>You can't say stupid Alex! That's a bad word, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Luca gasped as he lightly slapped his hands against his cheeks. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Besides, it looks like you could use a friend.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>We paused outside of Aunt Siobhan's apartment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Will I see you tomorrow? </span>
  </em>
  <span>I asked him, shifting my weight onto the brick wall of the building.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Sound's like a plan! </span>
  </em>
  <span>He threw his arms around me into a hug, retreating back to the sidewalk as he waved goodbye.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Meet at the mural!</span>
  </em>
  <span> He yelled as he walked backward, barely managing to avoid slamming into a woman who was jogging down the street.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>My mouth was plastered into a smile as I entered Aunt Siobhan's apartment, where I was greeted by Aunt Siobhan folding laundry. She gave me a smile, but it quickly changed as her eyes began to water.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>What's wrong?</span>
  </em>
  <span> I quickly rushed to her side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tears began to fall from her eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Aunt Siobhan? </span>
  </em>
  <span>I frowned, fearing once more for news that she had given me a couple of weeks before.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>No no, she smiled a watery smile. These are happy tears- you're smiling baby. Did you have a good day at school?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Smiling. A single facial expression the reason for her tears? Happy tears too.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Happy tears about me being- happy?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Happy after two weeks of the unthinkable following the unthinkable event of Mama and Papa leaving.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I was happy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I made a friend auntie!</span>
  </em>
  <span> I grinned, resulting in her laughing and grasping me in a hug.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I was happy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I was happy!</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
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